


Sugary Sweet

by Quiverquill



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: 5+1 Things, Fluff, M/M, One (1) kiss scenario per chapter, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Surprise Kissing, Tea Parties, Will add more tags as we go, for now
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:15:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26495485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quiverquill/pseuds/Quiverquill
Summary: “While he did feel like he’d missed out on getting the chance to talk to Edelgard in a more familiar and relaxed manner than their usual meetings, Dimitri had also been banking on her formal, no-nonsense attitude to help mitigate the conversation and keep him from saying something awkward or overly personal. Quite selfishly, he’d been hoping that her presence would be a reminder to keep his feelings in check, and to not do anything stupid.But she wasn’t there. And so now he was alone.With Claude.”Confronted with new and developing feelings, Dimitri tries his best to not let his crush on Claude interfere with his conduct towards his fellow house leader. He does not succeed.Or:Five times Dimitri surprises Claude with a kiss, and one time Claude does it back.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 32
Kudos: 110





	Sugary Sweet

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not good at titling fics so I named it after the prompt I used to write this first chapter  
> Only fluff in the beginning, I'll add more tags as we continue...
> 
> Enjoy some smooches

_ i. _

If Dimitri was to be honest with himself, he didn't normally enjoy tea time.

It was… a necessary undertaking. As expected of a prince of Faerghus, he'd long become accustomed to it – having a hot, tasteless drink with another very important person, pretending that he was comfortable and relaxed when truly he felt the exact opposite, engaging in especially stressful and political conversation – but that didn't mean that he  _ liked  _ it. Though nowadays, he found he didn’t like most of the things he spent his time doing.

But his feelings on the subject did not matter, and he wasn’t one to complain. To avoid partaking in the activity would hinder him socially, and his own immature frustration with the art of tea time was of no importance to him, and certainly not to the prince he was supposed to be.

So, setting aside his own petty grievances, Dimitri was ready for the inevitable tea party between his fellow house leaders and himself, a chance to strengthen the bonds between their respective territories in a very personal, onerous way. In some ways, he was even looking forward to it, if only to have a way to approach Edelgard in order to tie up loose ends and become cordial with one another once more.

Then she didn’t bother to show up.

Dimitri wasn’t mad – her excuse seemed fairly legitimate, and he knew she wasn’t the type of person to pass up on this opportunity to improve political relations (right?) – but he supposed he had to admit that he was a bit… disappointed. And slightly anxious.

While he did feel like he’d missed out on getting the chance to talk to Edelgard in a more familiar and relaxed manner than their usual meetings, Dimitri had also been banking on her formal, no-nonsense attitude to help mitigate the conversation and keep him from saying something awkward or overly personal. Quite selfishly, he’d been hoping that her presence would be a reminder to keep his feelings in check, and to not do anything stupid.

But she wasn’t there. And so now he was alone.

With Claude.

“Pretty  _ rude  _ of Her Royalness to blow us off like that, huh?”

The rickety wooden chair he was seated in pressed against Dimitri’s spine, the jarring feeling not dissimilar to the invisible rock that was currently being wedged between his ribs. The sight of Edelgard’s retreating back made his stomach fill with dread, and he couldn’t look away even as she disappeared around a corner, his lifeline gone, left defenseless to the smooth voice that belonged to the man seated across from him whom he didn’t dare to look at.

“I don’t believe so,” Dimitri responded carefully, his voice even, as always. “The Professor did not announce that they were leaving for an auxiliary battle until this morning. Edelgard should not be held accountable for a last minute change of plans.”

“You would say that, wouldn’t you,” Claude laughed, a smile in his smooth voice. Dimitri's heart jumped in his chest at the sound. “You know, most nobles would be pretty miffed if they were stood up at a tea party.”

That was very true, indeed; having tea with someone was a sign of personal respect among the nobility in Fódlan, and while it wasn’t necessarily bad to decline an invitation, it was quite rude to ignore one. That was one of many rules of tea time etiquette that had been drilled into Dimitri’s skull by his tutor over the years, though he was sure that Gustave would be appalled if he were to see the prince now: Dimitri didn’t even have the decency to look his company in the eye.

He turned away from the corner Edelgard had fled behind, choosing to stare down at his teacup. It was empty. In this strangely anxious state he was in, he’d forgotten to fill their cups. This kind of inattention was unbecoming of him – he should look up, pour them both some tea, and apologise for his absentmindedness.

“I would not say that I have been ‘stood up,’” he said instead, like a coward. “I have you for company, don’t I? I have no need of anyone else when you're more than enough for me.”

There was a pause, loud in its silence. Dimitri’s chest constricted at the sound, or rather the lack of it, a cold sweat beading on his skin. He was suddenly glad that he wasn't holding his teacup, for he likely would have broken it when his hands clenched with his nerves, thankfully hidden under the table. Had he made Claude uncomfortable? He’d only wanted to be honest, to make up for his antisocial and frankly quite ill-mannered behaviour. But he’d ended up making his situation worse. 

What was wrong with him? Why was he treating Claude so poorly? Mischievous and perhaps troublemaking though he was, Claude was a good man and deserved only the highest respect. Dimitri had no qualms in defending his fellow house leader’s honour to those who would dare slander his name when Claude was not present to speak for himself. So why could he not give the man the recognition he was due when they were alone together? Why did Claude’s proximity make him itch to hide his face? Why did the mere notion of looking him in the eye give Dimitri so much anxiety, and make his stomach leap nauseatingly?

Lost in his spiraling thoughts, Dimitri nearly jumped out of his skin when a tanned hand entered his field of vision. Skin warm like burnt amber, its elegant movements captivated him instantly as it took hold of the saucer his teacup was placed upon, delicately drawing it away.

Without his permission, Dimitri's eyes followed the hand as it stole his cup away from him, his gaze trapped as Claude’s second hand entered the picture, taking hold of Dimitri’s personal teapot with a casual grace that made Dimitri's ears buzz.

“Well, that’s certainly good to hear,” that smooth voice intoned, its inflections dancing through the air like the sweetest of music as Claude poured tea for the both of them. “For a moment there, I wondered if you even wanted to be here! I’m glad you want to stay and chat with little ol’ me.”

As sweet as his voice sounded, Claude’s words were lost on him, swimming in one ear and out the other as Dimitri’s eyes travelled up his fellow house leader’s arm, catching on the bright colour of his cape and lured towards the smile upon his lips. It felt like an invisible arrow had shot Dimitri through the chest as the archer’s green gaze met his own, as if the arrow had come straight from Claude’s quiver.

He’d made a mistake. He’d looked up, and now all hope for him was lost, his cognizance thrown to the wind as he watched the sunlight play upon Claude’s face, those green eyes glittering with mischief, soft curls brushing against his temple as his braid swayed gently with the breeze. A sudden yearning clawed at him, though what it was that Dimitri longed for, he did not know. He swallowed to ease the dryness in his throat. His face was warming, no doubt it was pink by now, and his fingers twitched under the table with the urge to reach out, to take hold of Claude’s hand and–

“–want some, Your Princeliness?”

Claude had said something. He’d said something and Dimitri had  _ missed  _ it, how mortifying! One boldly shaped eyebrow was raised over a green eye, surrounded by a multitude of fluttering dark eyelashes, that lovely gaze confused and searching and mesmerizing… and Dimitri still hadn’t responded yet.

“Ah, yes. Please.”

A second eyebrow raised to join the first, a moderately surprised expression coating Claude’s face, and Dimitri felt his stomach sink.

“Really? Didn’t take you for the sort of person who liked that kind of thing.”

_ Oh, Sothis.  _ Best to take a shot in the dark. “Well, I suppose that’s why we’re here, Claude. To learn more about each other.”

For a heartstopping second, Claude’s expression didn’t change, before a toothy grin stretched across his face. Dimitri nearly sank into his chair with relief when Claude’s deft hands dropped a sugarcube into both of their teacups, and pushed Dimitri’s saucer back towards him.

“Hoping to learn all my secrets, are you? I have to say, I don’t have much of a sweet tooth like you, but I guess it doesn’t hurt to have a bit of sugar.”

Claude thought he had a sweet tooth? Dimitri supposed there was no harm in letting him believe that, grateful that his blunder had been centred around something so small. He also didn’t have the heart to tell Claude that he wouldn’t be able to taste the tea that Claude had poured for him, even if Dimitri had been the one to brew it.

He picked up his tea, careful not to damage the cup with his brutish strength, and sipped at it with a polite smile by way of showing thanks. It tasted of nothing, of course, his ageusia turning the chamomile flavourless, but just the knowledge that Claude had sweetened it just for him made it all the more delicious.

They talked together for a short time, Claude pushing a cake or two in Dimitri’s direction while under the impression that he had a sweet tooth, and Dimitri’s heart underwent several more palpitations when faced with Claude’s care and attention. The other man had put his elbows on the table, linking his hands in front of his face, and though placing one’s elbows on the table is the height of rudeness in Faerghus, Dimitri found that he didn’t feel disrespected at all, rather bashful as Claude leaned forward with that interested green gaze of his.

Talking to Claude… he found he really didn’t feel like he was the prince of Faerghus, meeting with the future Sovereign Duke of the Leicester Alliance. His body still felt like it was strung taut with nerves and he found himself nearly choking on his tea whenever Claude made a small noise of delight as he bit into a little cake, but somehow, at the very same time, Dimitri felt… at ease. Like this conversation was perfectly normal. Like laughing with Claude while sharing anecdotes about humourous endeavours with their classmates was a natural part of life.

And he was enjoying it. For the first time in a very long while, Dimitri could say that he was actually enjoying having tea with someone else.

Some time later, Claude arose from his chair, stretching his arms over his head like he was readying himself for bed though it was only late afternoon. The action made a smile stretch across Dimitri’s face, unbidden, and a strange fondness bloomed in his chest.

“Welp, that was nice,” Claude laughed, his arms swinging back down to his sides, “but I’m afraid I’ve stayed too long. I’ve gotta go do other house leader things now. You know, responsibilities and such.” He flapped a hand through the air, the motion playfully dismissive.

“Indeed, I do know.” Dimitri wondered how truthful Claude was being, or if he was off to investigate into more people’s secrets. Either way, Dimitri found that he wasn’t too perturbed. With all the casual kindness Claude showed to him, he was sure the Golden Deer were in good hands. “Thank you for the treat, I had a wonderful time. And I must apologize for my rudeness earlier, I don’t know what came over me. Though that is no excuse.” He bowed low to the other man. “Please, accept my humblest apologies.”

“Rude? You?” Claude’s tone was slightly baffled as his brow creased. “Okay then. I’ll accept your princely apology, though I don’t see why you’d need to apologize.”

Dimitri felt his eyebrows raise with his surprise. Claude must be joking. “I nearly broke all of the rules of tea time etiquette!” Not only had been outwardly antisocial, he’d also forced Claude’s hand in pouring the tea that Dimitri had prepared! He’d been a deplorable host. “You need not forgive me for my sake. I will accept whatever misgivings you have for my behaviour.”

Dimitri saw Claude’s face turn carefully blank at his words, before a grin spread across the other’s face, lighting up his green eyes. It was a smile, something that appeared so easily on Claude’s face, and yet this one was… different. It softened his face, and stole the breath from Dimitri’s lungs. “I wouldn’t get so worked up about that, Dimitri, really. I don’t mind. Honestly, I wouldn’t mind it either if we could do this again sometime, bad etiquette and all! How about it?”

The sound of his name – just his name, no title, no nickname – on Claude’s tongue made Dimitri’s head spin. His heart felt fit to burst, and his blood was singing in his ears. He became hyper-aware of the breeze that ghosted across his warm face, that sighed through Claude’s hair and made his braid brush against those smiling lips.

“I…” His chest felt so full with an emotion he couldn’t place, and it was both exhilarating and utterly maddening. “I would love to, Claude.”

Claude smiled wider at his words, a small dimple appearing on one of his cheeks, and a chord was struck somewhere in the recesses of Dimitri’s brain. Like a match held to a stack of hay, his insides suddenly lit aflame, and they demanded that he reach out to Claude, pull him close, closer than they are now, comb his fingers through those soft curls, and… and–

Dimitri did his best to resist this sudden compulsion, but his mind was screaming at him to obey. Claude was saying something he couldn’t hear over the sound of his heartbeat in his ears, and Dimitri felt his hand move before he could do anything to prevent it.

Shaking, his hand took Claude’s, which curled around his in surprise. His primal instinct was yelling at him to use it as leverage, to use his strength to pull Claude closer–  _ no,  _ he didn’t want to do that, he didn’t want to take advantage of Claude, but if he didn’t do something he felt his heart was going to explode–

Raising Claude’s hand as gently as he could in his own, he bowed swiftly, and pressed his lips to Claude’s knuckles in a short, sweet kiss.

His mind turned blank at the contact, his sudden passion satisfied, and when he straightened once more he was treated to the sight of Claude’s mouth agape with shock, his face flushed dark as his green eyes sparkled with gleam that Dimitri had never seen directed at him before. After a moment, Dimitri regained feeling in his limbs as a strange buzzing fizzled across his skin, setting each and every one of his hairs on end.

The mortification hit him quite abruptly.

Dear Goddess,  _ what had he done?! _

He dropped Claude’s hand as if it were a hot coal, startling backwards and nearly tripping over a chair. Claude hadn’t moved, seemingly frozen in shock, and Dimitri felt hot acid burn his throat.

“I-I’m so sorry, Claude, I–” He’d been boorish, disgusting, Claude probably could barely stand to look at him anymore– “I must go!”

And so, ignoring the call of his name behind him, Dimitri turned and fled.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Later, after destroying several training dummies in a bout of self-loathing, Dimitri returned to his dorm room in the early hours of the morning, only to find his tea set placed carefully upon his desk, alongside a small pot of sugarcubes and a note. In the dark of the night, Dimitri lit a candle to make out the letters written in familiar handwriting, feeling his heart lighten and his face burn from what he read.

_ Don’t worry, Your Sweetness. I didn’t mind. _

_ – Claude _

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Kudos and comments are deeply appreciated >~<
> 
> Catch me on twitter @Quiverquill1 :D


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